


All That Glitters

by The_Muses_of_Mars



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 14:46:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5630377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Muses_of_Mars/pseuds/The_Muses_of_Mars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn, knows how to throw a party. And he knows how to keep his cool - mostly - when unexpected guests show up with a stolen invitation. Oh, well. At least they brought some eye candy... (A reimagining of the first meeting between Magnus and Alec. Complete.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	All That Glitters

Jace was looking at Clary. “This building,” he said, pointing at the red brick warehouse. “Is this the one?”

Clary exhaled. “I think so,” she said uncertainly. “They all look the same.”

“One way to find out,” Isabelle said, mounting the steps with a determined stride. The rest of them followed, crowding close to one another in the entryway. The floor beneath their feet was suspiciously sprinkled with glitter. A flashing strobe light pulsed overhead, illuminating a large, gold foil-covered door and a row of apartment buzzers along the left wall in bursts of pink, purple, green, and blue. Only one had a name written over it: BANE.

Isabelle pressed the buzzer. Nothing happened. She pressed it again. She was about to press it a third time when Alec caught her wrist. “Don’t be rude,” he said.

She glared at him. “Alec—”

The door flew open.

A slender man standing in the doorway regarded them curiously. It was Isabelle who recovered herself first, flashing a brilliant smile. “Magnus? Magnus Bane?”

“That would be me.” The man blocking the doorway was as tall and thin as a rail, his hair a crown of dense black spikes. It was clear from the curve of his sleepy eyes and the gold tone of his evenly tanned skin that he was part Asian. He wore jeans and a black cat shirt covered with dozens of metal buckles. His eyes were crusted with a raccoon mask of charcoal glitter, his lips painted a dark shade of blue. He raked a ring-laden hand through his spiked hair and regarded them thoughtfully. “Children of the Nephilim,” he said. “Well, well. I don’t recall inviting you.”

Isabelle took out her invitation and waved it like a white flag. “I have an invitation. These”—she indicated the rest of the group with a grand wave of her arm—“are my friends.”

Magnus plucked the invitation out of her hand and looked at it with fastidious distaste. “I must have been drunk,” he said. He threw the door open. “Well? Come in. And try not to murder any of my guests.”

Jace edged into the doorway, sizing Magnus up with his eyes. “Even if one of them spills a drink on my new shoes?”

“Even then.” Magnus’s ringed fist flashed so fast no one saw it move. But Jace’s head bounced back and hit the door frame with a resounding crack. Or maybe that was his jaw. Stunned, he took a staggering step forward, then touched his bruising jaw with unsure fingertips. Did Magnus just hit him...? Damn. Talk about Kung Fu fighting.

Magnus’s eyes glittered. “Keep it in your pants, Shadowhunter.” He started up the stairs, leaving the stunned blond boy holding the door.

The others pushed past Jace, laughing nervously. Only Isabelle stopped to shake her head. “Pussy,” she muttered.

Jace looked affronted. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Keep telling yourself that...” Isabelle flounced past him in a swirl of skirts.

Magnus’s apartment was at the top of a long flight of velvet-carpeted stairs. The loft was huge but almost totally devoid of furniture. Floor-to-ceiling windows were draped with silver metallic streamers, reflecting the colorful strobing lights back onto the glitter-streaked floor. Ornately-carved, ivory Greek pillars wound with colored lights held up an arched, shimmering ceiling. There was an open bar at one end of the room where a lilac-skinned woman in a black lace bustier served tall drinks with thick fluid tinted blood red, cyanosis blue, and poison green. And the center of the room was packed with bodies grinding to the pounding beat that bounced off the walls from a pricey stereo system.

“You like the party?”

Alec had been a little overwhelmed by all the sights and sounds, but now he turned to see the unusual character self-identified as Magnus lounging against one of the Greek columns. His eyes shone in the darkness like a cat’s. Glancing around nervously, Alec saw that Jace and the others were gone, swallowed up by the crowd. He wondered why they were off partying, when they’d come here to see Magnus...

He licked his lips, but when he faced forward again, Magnus was upon him. Before he could say or do anything, he was being swept into the throng, the Asian man’s hands gripping his hips almost forcefully.

They stopped when they were surrounded by a crowd of strangers. Alec couldn’t see the others anywhere, but it was hard to see anything with so many swaying bodies and flailing arms swarming around him.

Magnus had joined the dancers, releasing Alec’s hips to throw his hands in the air. As he nodded his head in exaggerated motions with the beat of the music, Alec could see that Magnus’s hair wasn’t just black, but streaked with dark blue dye, and as dappled with glitter as everything and everyone else in the room. Alec didn’t recognize the song playing, and frankly couldn’t even identify the language of the lyrics, but Magnus’s lips were mouthing the strange words in perfect unison. Until he spoke.

“Why aren’t you dancing?” Magnus wanted to know.

Alec crossed his arms, scowling as his eyes glanced from side to side. “I don’t dance,” he mumbled.

“Huh?” Magnus held a hand cupped over his ear while his hips continued to gyrate. “What was that?”

Alec sighed, feeling even more embarrassed having to repeat himself. “I don’t dance,” he said, loudly enough this time that a few guests dancing nearby turned to look at him over their shoulders.

Magnus snorted. “Well, you look moronic just standing there,” he complained. Without warning, he reached out and grabbed hold of Alec’s hips again. The boy’s eyes widened and he was momentarily too stunned to push back as Magnus drew him close. Magnus clutched Alec’s hips hard and moved against him relentlessly, forcing him into rhythm. “Put your hands on my shoulders,” he ordered.

Alec swallowed hard, his eyes wild as he searched the crowd for Jace. If anyone saw him like this...

“What’s your problem?” Magnus snapped. “You’re so...stiff. And not in a good way.”

Alec’s attention quickly returned to his captor. He was about to ask, “What’s a ‘good way’?” when suddenly he felt a shooting pain along his spine. It felt as if something sharp had stabbed right into his spinal cord, and the pain was spreading along every limb within seconds. It hurt so bad Alec couldn’t even gasp for breath. He froze, eyes bulging and back stiffening rigidly.

Then it was over. Whatever icy touch had pierced him and caused him to freeze up had leaked a searing heat into the wound it had inflicted. The warmth slowly spread through his veins, and his tense muscled relaxed. Then he began to move.

Alec was first horrified as his body came alive, writhing to the music as if he were merely a puppet on strings being controlled by someone else’s hands. Then he was embarrassed as he found himself leaning toward Magnus, his shoulder rolling as if beckoning in invitation.

Magnus grinned, his eyes squinting with pleasure as he admired his handiwork. “You’re cute,” he said decidedly. He stepped close again, and this time Alec’s arms lifted of their own accord to wrap around the other man’s shoulders even before Magnus had touched his hips. Magnus leaned down and whispered in Alec’s ear, “Don’t forget to smile.”

“What’s there to smile about?” Alec muttered. He hadn’t expected to hear the sound of his own voice since he wasn’t in control of the rest of his body, but he was apparently able to speak.

He might have come up with a few more choice words for the warlock, but Magnus interrupted by answering, “Let me show you...”

The music was thumping so hard even the floor seemed to vibrate. Alec couldn’t tell whether his heart was pounding in sync with the music because of the overwhelming pulse of the bass, or if it the sensation was just another effect of whatever spell had possessed him at Magnus’s behest. The combined sensations of having his eardrums assaulted, of not knowing which way his body would lurch next, and of losing sight to the black spots darkening his vision from all the flashes of light left him reeling with vertigo. If Magnus hadn’t been gripping him with some powerful kind of magic, he’d have probably fallen over as if drunk.

Magnus danced right against Alec, one leg pressed between the Shadowhunter boy’s thighs to get even closer. Their hips moved in perfect rhythm together, and Alec flushed when he realized he was gazing down between their bodies to watch. When he looked up, the red shade coloring his cheeks deepened as he saw Magnus staring at him with interest. His blush only caused the man’s Cheshire-like grin to widen.

Alec’s eyes shifted away in embarrassment, but he couldn’t withdraw his arms from Magnus’s shoulders, and a moment later he felt the man’s cool hands snaking up the back of his shirt to touch his bare skin. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut. “Please don’t,” he whispered, certain Magnus hadn’t heard him.

But perhaps he had. Magnus slipped his hands back out of Alec’s shirt. Then a split second later he was gripping the boy’s ass.

Alec’s eyes flew open.

“Oh, shut up,” Magnus teased, laughing at him. “Just dance with me.”

It wasn’t as if he had a choice.

As worried as Alec was that someone—namely Jace—would see him and get the wrong idea—or perhaps the right one—he realized he felt more a part of the crowd than apart from it. He’d never danced before, especially not like this. He’d never had a man’s arms around him. He’d never felt even remotely this comfortable in his own skin, now that he was...well, out of it.

One song faded into another, but rather than release him, Magnus just changed the pace of their movements to match the new music. They melded with the pulse on the dance floor, their feet stepping in unison and their hips grinding against one another, their two bodies just a small part of the whole of one thrashing, thriving entity, alive and completely manic. Alec’s hold on Magnus tightened, and the other man wrapped his arms around the young Shadowhunter’s waist to draw him closer.

“You know,” Magnus called over the clamor of the music, “you’re not bad at this.”

“What?” Alec asked, surprised.

“Dancing.” Magnus thought he hadn’t heard him. “You said you don’t dance. But you’re actually rather good at it.”

Alec shook his head, fighting the hint of a smile that had crept across his lips at the unexpected compliment. “It’s your spell,” he countered.

“Not anymore,” Magnus simpered. “It wore off about...” he lifted an arm to check the rhinestone-encrusted watch on his left wrist, “three minutes ago.”

As if testing that theory, Alec stopped moving. Realizing he could, in fact, stop, he quickly dropped his arms from Magnus’s shoulders.

Magnus cocked a head to the side, but he didn’t stop smirking. “What’s the matter? Aren’t you allowed to have any fun?”

“I wasn’t—” Alec began, but if he had finished, it would have been a lie.

Suddenly everything went dark and very, very quiet. Gone were the flashing lights, the dancers, and the music; all Alec could see, though no light shone in this realm, was Magnus. Magnus, stepping closer.

“Don’t ever be ashamed,” the warlock whispered, though there was nobody around to hear them. He touched Alec’s cheek with painted fingertips, his head turning as he leaned in and closed his eyes. Alec stopped breathing, anticipating the kiss he felt was coming.

But it didn’t. With a throb the music was blaring in his ears again, and the strobe lights blinding him. He was standing in the middle of the crowded dance floor, but he was alone.

Feeling a little dazed, and uncertain whether anything that had happened had...happened, Alec carved a path through the dancers and suddenly caught sight of Jace over at the bar. He felt a flush, but remembered the last thing Magnus had told him. Feeling a sudden boost of confidence, he thrust his shoulders back and stepped between the blond Shadowhunter and the girl who had just adorned Jace’s neck with some sort of lei.

“Hey, Alec.” Jace gave him a lopsided grin. “Did you see what your sister’s up to?” he taunted.

Alec didn’t take the bait. “We should do what we came here to do,” he said instead, though he was hardly in a position to chide Jace for having fun now.

Jace sighed. “You’re right, I suppose.” He rubbed his sore chin. “Let’s go find Magnus Bane.”


End file.
